Lilac
by Bonzai-Bunny
Summary: Canada didn't think that there was anything wrong with their sex life. It was perfectly tame, sure, and maybe not all that spontaneous, but he thought that was how England liked it. M for a reason. Kink-meme de-anon.


Warnings: Consensual BDSM, with verbal abuse, forced rimming, spanking, and a forced blowjob

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia

Authoress Note: This is a fill on the kink meme for England/Canada with historical roleplay and all those warnings above. Enjoy. C:

- - - o0o - - -

Canada didn't think that there was anything wrong with their sex life. It was perfectly tame, sure, and maybe not all that spontaneous, but he thought that was how England liked it. England with his knitting and sweat vests; everything about him was tame and domestic. Canada had kinks, sure (particularly one involving a recurring dream he had, that England would punish him like he never did as a colony), but he was afraid that the other would be weirded out by some of them, so he was perfectly content to be vanilla, if it made England happy.

So color him shocked, one warm afternoon, when they were making out on the couch and England had confessed to him. Canada had had his arms wrapped around that lithe body in his lap, and he was sucking on a flush collar bone when England gasped from above,

"M-Matthew…I have something to…to tell you."

Canada stopped and looked up. The other's face was red, but it seemed not so much because of arousal but because of embarrassment.

"Yes?"

"….I would like to try something new."

That itself surprised Canada, but he rubbed England's thighs appreciatively and asked, "Like what?"

England looked at him. There was such a longing and desire in those green eyes, it almost made Canada shiver. The other's eyes seemed to plough right through him.

"I want to dominate you."

Canada sucked in a breath, but it felt like his lungs stopped working. He definitely wasn't expecting that, but good god, that tone. Those words seemed to go straight to his cock and enveloped him in warmth. He thought back to that recurring dream, England tying him down and—oh god. Canada flushed, a lot more excited by the proposal than he would have liked to admit. After long a pause, he licked his lips and nodded.

"Okay. Y-yeah, we can do that."

England's smile was so triumphant Canada couldn't help but wonder what he had gotten himself into.

They spent a whole two weeks talking about it. They outlined what was okay and what wasn't okay, how the session to go, their safe word system (This had made Canada's heart beat rapidly in his chest; they had never _needed _safe words before) and a few days before, Canada flew to England's house to see what they would be using (Canada was especially shocked to learn that England had already owned the majority of the stuff and felt kind of silly for assuming that he would only have vanilla kinks).

Then the day came.

Canada sat nervously in a chair in one of England's bedrooms, alone. The room seemed too pretty for what they were about to do, with its embroidery and lightly-colored bed sheets. The whole place smelled sweet and old, like nostalgia, and it was startling compared to what was going to happen. Just thinking about it made his stomach flip. He knew what generally was supposed to happen, but his roleplaying experiences were few and far between. This along with the silence in the room left him fidgeting.

His hands were placed neatly on his lap and he was wearing a version of his old colonial clothing and his back was to the door, which bothered him far more than it should have. His face felt light, strange, because of his lack of glasses (he was wearing contacts to keep the illusion) and the minutes were ticking away, but he knew that he had to stay where he was sitting and the more he sat, the more unnerved he became. The anticipation seemed to claw at his skin and he must have dozed off, because the next thing he heard was a stern,

"_Canada,_" coming from somewhere behind him.

He started and tried to turn around, but gloved hands were immediately in his hair, yanking it, making him keep still.

"You'll stay still, boy, and not move unless I tell you to, got it?" The other hissed.

Canada swallowed harshly (his heart was beating too quickly in his chest for moment as he realized that this was happening) and said shakily,

"Y-yes, sir," and mentally berated himself for stuttering.

The squeak of the floorboards as England walked around him was so excruciatingly slow it made Canada even more anxious. When England finally got in front of him, he was wearing his old military uniform, the one he wore to fight America. His expression was one of disdain and he held a riding crop in his hand.

"Do you know why you're here, boy?"

Canada shivered with undeniable pleasure and shook his head. "No, sir."

To Canada's credit, he was expecting to be hit, just with the crop and not the full force of England's hand. His cheek stung at the impact as he felt heat worm its way through his body (and not necessarily from the hit itself, but from England, seeing him so coolly reserved, so in control, it did something to Canada's pants).

"For _treason,_" England spat, and grabbed Canada's chin with a bruising hold.

"For helping your brother in his infernal war _against_the crown. If you were a human I'd have executed you a long time ago, but we both know that would be completely pointless. You are here for punishment."

Canada swallowed and nodded, feeling his pants shrink a little more.

England scowled and pointed towards the bed with his crop and ordered, "Get over there and strip. Lay face down on the bed," and then,

"I should have done this much more when you were a lad."

Canada managed to squeak out a "Yes, sir," before doing what England said.

Nervously, he fumbled with the laces on his breeches and stepped out of them before undoing the buttons on his waistcoat. He toed off his shoes, trying to make haste of the whole affair. He could feel England's gaze on him as he slid off his shirt and felt his cheeks heat up. It was ridiculous, England had seen him naked before plenty of times, he didn't know why he was being so embarrassed (but part of his mind said that this wasn't his lover—his England was someone else right now). After some brief hesitation, he slid down his stockings, leaving him totally bare in front of the other, and then he lay down on the bed.

The comforter was cool on his face and he could smell its sweet scent of lilac. It was almost a distraction from how exposed and vulnerable he felt. But it was also a good feeling, and when he felt leather straps wrap too tight around his wrists behind him, it made his face burn. As he lay there, he wondered what England was doing to take so long. He tried to crane his neck to see him, but the other had escaped his field of vision. But he knew England was still there and would likely hit him at any moment.

The minutes seemed to tick by (it was probably just his imagination) as Canada grew more and more worried. He squirmed, restless, and his mind wandered to the events that were about to unfold.

He held his breath in anticipation, suddenly nervous, not sure if he really wanted this or not. But England wouldn't seriously hurt him, he thought. He hoped. Right? But even then, this wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Yeah, he tried to reassure the sudden part of his mind that wanted to take flight, he would be fine. He trusted England. This would be okay.

Then he felt the first lash against his skin.

It stung horribly; he felt heat spread throughout his bottom, and his face heated up more.

"Count the lashes," England ordered, and hit him harder.

"Two," he gasped, okay that really fucking hurt, arching his back, "three."

The initial blow turned into hot pain all across his backside, and his cock throbbed with each count upwards. It hurt, it hurt so much, but each hit made him grow warmer and he could feel the sweat on his forehead and lower back as his skin burned and his legs grew weak with ecstasy and pain. He tried to measure his breaths, to keep from getting so excited, but then England would change the position of the crop, the strength at which he hit Canada, and Canada would gasp, feeling his heartbeat quicken, feeling his nipples harden a little more. His bottom was probably fire red, tender and sore.

"Nineteen….twenty…"

He was so hard. With every unfeeling, painful lash against his bottom, the more his body moved with it, the more his back arched, his hips moved, and he was inadvertently grinding against the comforter, leaving a slick wet spot where his cock was. His legs were trying their best to stay together, but they felt like jelly, and if England moved the crop to his upper thighs, he would part them, so needy.

"Twenty-nine…thirty."

"Alright, get up, boy."

Canada did so, reluctantly (painfully), and he felt even more exposed as he stood to face England. His cock was standing tall and flushed between his legs, leaking at the head, and England glanced at it before giving him a disdainful look.

"Getting off on punishment, I see."

Canada felt like his entire body blushed and, shamed, he looked at the ground. "N-no…! I don't…"

England slapped him in a brief, harsh motion and, startled, Canada looked up.

"You'll look at me when you're speaking to me, boy, and you'll address me as sir." There was a cold fire in England's eyes that made Canada shiver, one that invoked images of the battlefield and for a brief moment, Canada felt like he was under the other's control again. For a brief moment, Canada felt terrified of the other's power.

"Yes, sir."

"Now…" England raised the edge of the crop to Canada's jaw, before tracing it down his neck as Canada tried his best not to fidget.

"You're both a liar and a whore. I see you do take after your brother."

That accusation startled Canada. Not because of what it implied about him, but what it implied about America. Canada knew, and had long gotten over the fact, that England was briefly with his brother before him. He didn't know how much England was making up to rouse him, or if his brother had done this very thing with England and it made him a little angry and intrigued at the same time.

England stared at him coolly before raising an eyebrow like he knew what Canada was thinking. "What? You think you're the only one whose been bent over for the empire?"

England had to put it into those terms, too. Canada grit his teeth, but didn't say anything. He stood still and tried not to eye the crop that was now making its way to his chest.

"No, boy, you're just a whore in a long line of whores," and he was in no way prepared for the hand that grabbed his cock and he moaned, pleased by the sudden pressure and heat. He forgot for a moment that he was just proving the other's point and England tisked, removing his hand before sliding the crop lightly over his dick.

"See? Nothing but a slag. Is that why you tried to help your brother? So you both could be whores together without my interference?"

"No, sir."

"Or are you just a useless, traitorous cunt?"

Canada sucked in a breath and tried to ignore the sudden throbbing in his cock, "No, sir."

England scowled and slapped him again.

"Don't lie to me, boy. You're both, aren't you? A traitorous slag, ready to jump ship as soon as the other side shows you a dick to suck or fuck yourself on."

Canada didn't answer (some strangely afflicted part of him couldn't help but think that what England was saying was true), but thankfully it didn't seem like England was looking for one. He stared at the other thoughtfully and Canada tried to stand still, to not show how nervous he was for this to continue. Finally, England slowly licked his lips and ordered,

"I've got a punishment for whores like you. Get on the bed and lie back like the slut you are."

Canada once again did as the other told, albeit awkwardly because his hands were still tied behind his back and he tried to ignore the sudden flare of pain in his bottom from sitting down on the bed. And as he lay back, England knelt below his line of sight to retrieve a chest from underneath the bed. A chest full of toys.

Canada knew what it was because he had helped England put it there. He writhed in anticipation and wondered which one England was going to choose. He imagined England's hand lingering over various toys, like a plug or a vibrator, deciding carefully what to use and his fantasies were running amuck the longer England took. When England stood, he was holding a tube of lube and an egg shaped device with a remote attached to it. Canada sucked in a breath; England was going to be teasing, then.

"I'm going to teach you some self-restraint, boy," England said while pushing a gloved finger against Canada's entrance. He had prepared previously, but that didn't stop it from stinging from the lashes. He squirmed at the feeling of the finger stroking his insides (probably making sure he was prepared well enough) as he tried to adjust to it. England gave him a warning look before continuing,

"You're going to see how much you rely on the empire, how much you _need _it,"

England pressed against that spot that made the warmth in his body increase tenfold, his cock stiffen, and Canada tried his best to stifle a gasp,

"And when I'm done with you, you are going to be begging me for mercy."

Canada somehow had no doubt that was true. He tried not to look in England's direction as he applied lubricant to the toy because it would only make him nervous and nervousness often made him tense. Instead, he decided to focus on the feeling, of feeling England's now slick gloved fingers spreading him open more, of the slight fullness of the egg pushing through his entrance and he bit his lip as England settled the toy inside him.

And then he let out a loud moan when England turned it on with the remote, feeling the vibrations shoot straight to his cock.

"You may not come until I say so."

(and oh god, why did that statement just make him hotter?)

Canada tried his best not to squirm, to not show how close he already was and watched, flushed, as England pulled up a chair to the bed and sat in it. He looked so haughty, seemed to take up the entire chair like a throne and eyed Canada's erection (which was turgid, leaking precum) with wry amusement.

"How are we holding on?" He asked, smirking, as though he already knew the answer.

"F-fine," Canada lied and failed to bite back another groan when England turned the dial on the remote up. He shut his eyes, embarrassed, as he felt his face heat up.

"You'll be there in no time," England promised, and Canada knew the other was right. His cock was so hard it hurt and every intense vibration seemed like it was bringing him closer and closer to the edge. His breathing grew heavier and he tried to ignore how palpable the pleasure was. He squirmed at ridiculous quantities, not even caring about how his arms were going numb behind his back and each twist and turn somehow lodged the toy deeper inside of him and he was close, he was so close. He could feel it pulsing through his balls and cock, the heat coiling in his gut, and—

Nothing.

The toy had shut off, robbing Canada of the final push before release and he looked, horrified, in England's direction (he had known that the other was going to be cruel, but _that_cruel seemed inhuman). Canada refused to cry to the other, but damn if he didn't feel like it.

"Why did you…" Canada started pleadingly, but trailed off, figuring it was best to be left unsaid, but that was more than enough for England to respond.

"Why did I what? Why did I stop you from being the cum slut you are?"

Canada nodded reluctantly.

"I told you already, or are you daft too? I'm teaching you a lesson in restraint."

Oh. Well, that was lovely and not at all what Canada needed. What he needed was that damn thing to be turned on again and—oh, could England read his mind? He moaned gratefully and England gave him a reproaching look. At this point, Canada didn't even care anymore; he just needed release so badly and as soon as he worked himself up enough to be close, bam, the pleasure was gone, leaving Canada feeling cold and frustrated in the worst possible way.

"Oh, God, England, please," he whimpered, losing more and more self-restraint in the name of gratifying his pleasure. He wanted to be fucked raw, he wanted England to actually touch him, but England primly stood and pulled out the toy, leaving Canada even more wanton and desperate.

"Don't—"

"You still haven't learned your lesson yet, have you boy?" He knelt down, to the trunk and Canada felt dizzy with apprehension and lust. What more could England possibly want from him? He could safe word but he knew, in the back of his mind, that he was enjoying this treatment and even more, he wanted to know what the other was going to do next. He got the answer when England pulled out a toy with an odd shape—a large rounded head that slimmed and then widened to a very large base—and Canada knew that England was trying to torture him.

He bit his lip when England lubed it up and pushed it into him—oh god it was so big and deep—and screamed when the other turned it on with another remote. It was pulsating—vibrating directly against his prostate and his cock hardened back up immediately. But before Canada could relish in the pleasure, England grabbed his chin with a strong hold, digging bruises into his skin and asked,

"What do you think makes you're deserving enough to come?" Canada couldn't think of an answer, mostly because his mind was swimming with euphoria, but England continued, undaunted.

"Certainly not loyalty. You've proven that well enough." Canada whimpered when England pressed two gloved fingers against his lips before prodding them into his mouth. Hoping it would speed up England's thinking process, he licked them and sucked on them readily and fervently.

"Perhaps willingness to do whatever I say… Are you boy? Are you willing to do whatever the Empire wants?"

Canada nodded eagerly, hoping this would be his chance to finally obtain release. England simply laughed and removed his fingers saying,

"Always the slag." But England yanked his hair again and forced their mouths together in a bruising kiss. Canada searched desperately for the familiar tenderness in the other, but it wasn't there in those sharp teeth nipping at his tongue and biting his lips. He gasped when he felt a piercing pain in his bottom lip and felt what was obviously blood trickle down it. England didn't look apologetic in the least; if anything he looked thrilled, and shoved their mouths together with renewed violent fervor. The hand that didn't have a bruise-hold on his chin, dug into his shoulder and he felt nails rake across his skin.

It hurt in a completely different way than the spanking earlier. His mouth stung as England's tongue slid across the cuts and it felt like the hand now clawing on his chest was spreading fire wherever it touched, yet none of this did anything to null arousal.

In fact, he moaned breathlessly into England's mouth when those nails dragged over an erect nipple and at that, England pulled away (lips red with Canada's blood), leaving Canada even colder and more anxious.

England backed up and took his sweet time removing his boots before undoing the buttons on his breeches and Canada impatiently watched him remove each item of clothing. When he was finally bare, Canada was surprised to see that he was only partially hard and disappointed that his gloves still remained.

"Now tell me yourself boy. What are you willing to do to gain the empire's forgiveness?"

"A-anything!"

"Anything?" England echoed, sauntering over to Canada like a jungle cat before its prey and Canada was so entranced by the other's hips, he gasped, surprised when England yanked his hair for him to look up.

"Like sucking my cock?"

"Yes!" Canada groaned, not even noticing the double entendre and England suddenly slapped him.

"Of course you would, you greedy cunt. No, I've got something for you." With that he turned off the toy (much to Canada's immediate disappointment) and straddled the taller blonde with a smirk.

"You did say _anything _for the Empire."

He crawled upward, so he was sitting on Canada's chest and yanked the other up slightly by his hair. Canada wondered what he was doing until England started to fist his cock before pushing the head against Canada's lips. It wasn't the touch that Canada truly craved (he never knew how much he would miss the other's gentle touch until it was gone) but it was better than nothing, especially considering he didn't have much choice, so he opened his mouth and allowed England to push his cock in and tried his best not to gag at the awkward angle.

It was heavy and thick on his tongue and he tried to breathe through his nose (and mind his teeth) as each minute thrust of England's pushed it deeper down his throat. He fought the instinctive urge to pull away and felt England grow harder the longer he stayed there. He could see England's reddening face and knew that at least the other was becoming aroused, which was comforting. But soon England tightened his grip on Canada's hair and he began actively thrusting into the other's mouth. It hurt. The cuts and bruises on his mouth were still raw and weren't helped by the cock filling his mouth.

He hoped the other wouldn't accidentally choke him.

It wasn't nearly as pleasurable as actually performing a blow job, but Canada managed, trying to focus on the pulsing of England's dick, how thick it was in his mouth, England's heavy breathing and not how uncomfortable it was to have it shoved down his throat over and over. He winced when England pulled out of his mouth, and brushed the head against his lips. England's cock was shiny with saliva and precum and left a trail of it as it slid across Canada's cheeks and Canada wondered if England was finally going to touch him like he wanted.

"Look at you," England smiled, "Looking every bit the part of the fucking whore you are."

Canada sucked in a breath at the insult. He had tolerated it enough, but part of him was wondering if this was really true. He hadn't yet objected to anything the man had put him through, and what type of person did that make him?

In his musings, the bed sunk in around Canada's head and Canada was surprised to see England move up closer. Then, he moved closer still, until his knees were far past Canada's temples and Canada's heart fluttered as he wondered what England could possibly be doing and this grew stronger as England's bottom grew closer and he felt a brief feeling of panic as England's ass pressed down against his face, his nose pressing in-between the other's cheeks. Struck with claustrophobia, it felt like he couldn't breathe for a moment as he realized what exactly England wanted him to do.

Oh god. He didn't really, did he?

"Go on. Prove your willingness to the empire."

But it wasn't exactly a total turn-off, just shocking.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad? He forced himself to take a breath and tentatively licked up the other's crack, which made England shift (and he could have sworn he heard a gasp), which was at least something. He tried to focus on England's reaction and ignore his discomfort as he pushed his tongue against the other's puckered entrance. England squirmed just a little more, so Canada continued, licking and lapping up inside the other, doing whatever he thought could make the experience more pleasurable.

(A part of his reasoning though was that he wanted England to think he was good and wanting to be rewarded for it like the slut he knew he was)

England's skin felt warm against his face and the more his tongue twisted, the heavier England's pants grew, the more he squirmed. Canada himself was just pleased hearing the reaction, despite the fact that his fists digging into his back had become painful. Despite the fact that he was only a little hard from the toy lodged inside him even though it wasn't on anymore. This was okay though; he focused his attention on England's own arousal, how a slide of his tongue this way would make England gasp, or a particularly hard thrust made a low moan escape the other's lips even as the humiliation burned Canada's throat.

And Canada moaned himself, feeling the toy suddenly switch back on (goddamn it, he had forgotten about that remote). He felt himself harden again with each pulse against his prostate and it was becoming increasingly difficult to pleasure England with his mind swimming again with arousal. This wasn't a problem though, because England soon slid off of him, looking haughty despite how much his cock was leaking and despite how red his face was.

"Have you learned your lesson boy?"

"Y-yes!" Canada cried, positively desperate to feel the other.

England gave him a cool look and said, "I'm not so sure you have."

And that, that was the most devastating thing Canada could have possible heard. His chest tightened terribly as his frustration tried to wind itself into tears and he shook his head desperately, unbelieving that after all of these circumstances England was still willing to tease him.

"Please!"

"Please, what?"

"Please let me come!"

England gave him another long look as Canada squirmed beneath him, being positively tortured by the toy that was still going inside of him.

"No."

"No!" Canada cried incredulously and forced back tears of frustration as the toy was suddenly shut off again.

"Yes. You've done nothing to convince me that you realize your own fault in this whole matter."

"No, I do!" He pleaded urgently.

"I'm a…" he searched for the words that England had used and his face heated up, "a traitorous slag."

England simply raised an eyebrow. "Really, now?"

"Yes! I'm a useless cunt!" he was babbling at this point, frantically trying to find anything that would bring about England's forgiveness. "This whole mess was my fault and I should rightly be killed."

"Go on."

"And what a stupid whore I was to think that I could get away with it! I just—please England!"

"And why should I care about how much you want it?"

"B-because I…I could feel good for you. I'll—I'll be your whore! Your hole, better than my brother, I just need this, please!"

"Tell me how much you need the Empire."

"I need it! I'm useless without it—without you! I'm absolutely useless without you I need you England so, so much. Please, please touch me, let me come. Please let me come," And Canada didn't even realize his eyes had filled with tears until England finally pulled off a glove and wiped a lone tear away. That act alone was more comforting than England's small smile and when he said softly,

"Of course, love," Canada sobbed then and there out of relief. He watched thankfully as England removed his other glove and crawled to the foot of the bed to retrieve the lube. It was certainly a lovely sight to see England press his fingers into his own lithe body and see him arch his back and gasp like so. There was something tender about the way England's emerald eyes locked onto Canada's as he touched himself so intimately. Despite all they had been through, Canada felt his face heat up with a blush.

Then England moved over to him, straddling his waist, before lining himself up with Canada's cock. He held himself open as he pushed down and Canada hissed, throwing back his head with utter euphoria. This—this Canada was familiar with and he was so glad to finally feel his lover around him. England put his hands on Canada's chest to sturdy himself as he slid all the way down. He panted, getting used to it for a moment, and Canada felt the other pulse around him, he was so tight and hot.

England moved his hips, bringing them up and down a little and Canada bit his lip, wanting so badly to take England and slam him down. But then again, he would miss all of those delicious noises as the other obviously made a concerted effort into not showing how aroused he was. He would go higher each time and gasp when he made it to the base of Canada's cock. Canada thought of earlier, the torture his prostate felt, and moaned, imaging how England must be feeling.

(He didn't image much longer though, because England was hot and tight and slick, and he was going to come soon if the other wasn't careful.)

Finally, England pushed himself up far enough that Canada almost slipped out of him and slammed back down and both of them moaned. England looked so good doing that, Canada thought with the small part of his brain that wasn't consumed by sex. His face was so red and the way he arched his back made Canada want to touch him even more. This train of thought only lasted so long however, and Canada shut his eyes, willing himself to not come too soon. England was squeezing around him so tightly and his cock felt heavy and hot. That warmth had already settled in his gut, but he wanted this to be good for England after all they had done.

He felt warm hands on his face and looked up to see England frowning at him.

"You can come, Matthew. You've deserved it."

"But—" He was cut off with a kiss (and oh, how he relished in finally feeling the other's lips move against his in such a tender way) and didn't notice England fishing for the remote. Of course, by the time the other turned the toy on again, the sudden motion against his prostate brought Canada abruptly over the edge and he came harder than he had ever come before.

England kept moving up and down until his orgasm had been completely milked out and he softened and the toy shut off for the last time. He tried to hide his embarrassment at not being able to last, even as he watched England push his fingers in as a meager substitution and wrap a hand around his cock. Canada had certainly never been given a show like this before and, finally getting over his shame, he watched England with hungry eyes as the other moaned and gasped.

Finally, with a soft cry, England came. There was a moment where England shut his eyes, panting, before opening them again and smiling, "Thank you, Matthew, I really enjoyed that."

"But I—"

"You did well. Very well, I was impressed."

The compliment made something warm grow in Canada's belly, but he didn't dwell on it, and finally wrapped his arms around the other when he was set free. He had never been more thankful for a chance to embrace his lover and England rubbed his sore wrists.

"You know, I never thought that….you know, you would do that." Canada admitted sheepishly by the time they lay together and England was massaging the knots that awkward position had made in his shoulders.

"I'm very old Matthew, I've had my time of exploration. I….didn't scare you did I?"

Canada shook his head, "No, I just—it was surprising I guess. Kind of hot to see you like that though."

And then came the hesitant, "Would you like to do it again?"

Canada felt like his heart stopped beating for a moment. It had never occurred to him during the session that England might want to make it a reoccurring thing, but he thought about himself against the bed, hard as England lay hit unto hit on him. He thought about how insanely aroused England had made him, despite it all, and mostly, he thought about the euphoria he felt to finally feel England's touch. There wasn't a question about it, really.

"Yeah….that sounds nice."


End file.
